


joanna comes out and other miracles

by cokeslushie



Category: Bill & Ted (Movies)
Genre: Coming Out, Drinking & Talking, Emotionally Repressed Valley Boys, Everyone Is Gay, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Idiots in Love, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Pining, Post-Bill & Ted's Bogus Journey, Recreational Drug Use, bro we are twenty somethings, well kinda it’s definitely an AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-28
Updated: 2020-09-28
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:40:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26702329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cokeslushie/pseuds/cokeslushie
Summary: A months worth of miracles in the form of coming out, sexual awakenings, tongue piercings and pining of the highest order. Bill S. Preston Esq. is way in over his head.
Relationships: Elizabeth & Joanna & Ted "Theodore" Logan & Bill S. Preston Esq., Elizabeth/Female OC, Joanna/Female OC, Ted "Theodore" Logan/Bill S. Preston Esq.
Comments: 5
Kudos: 40





	joanna comes out and other miracles

**Author's Note:**

> back at it again !! i highly recommend listening to me and my husband bc it’s a driving force for my inspo. ill have a baby playlist up soon 🤍ill be updating once a week!!

It was after band practice, the Wyld Stallyns were prepping for a gig of epic proportions. They booked an actual stadium on the southside called the Treehouse — score! That _and_ they had the triumphant opportunity to play an _entire set_. Full length songs of their choosing, just enough to fill their 45ish minute slot. The band was totally over the moon! Death was most excited, even though his dreary duties had him working the whole time. He had helped Bill personally sort through all their half-baked songs and taught several bass riffs to carry the set into total fruition. 

Bill hadn’t slept in two days because he was so worried about the set list. 

Usually, Ted was the somewhat anxious one, but Bill was always a bit too in love with the most intricate technicalities of their music. He had spent weeks staying up just a few hours after Ted crashed in their room; headphones on, head bent low, strumming away at his guitar. It was clumsy stuff but it was supremely solid. Presenting a sample to the club owner of The Treehouse - a most kind Jillian Arrows - had been nerve wracking. Bill had assumed that it was just a matter of booking another gig after their record deal and then — boom! Destiny takes over and they do a headline tour and peace floods the earth! Righteous!

This was not that. There was a lot of work to be done in order to provide world changing music. Meetings with big wig producers, rummaging through old school poems for lyric inspiration. There was also a lot of technical boring stuff he and Ted hadn’t really known about until after the girls got some research done. Now, Bill kind of appreciated the process. But damn, he was jumpy nowadays.

Joanna cleared her throat politely. Bill snapped to attention. This was the classic maneuver for her specifically — if Elizabeth wanted your attention, she would say something aloud like “Do you have a minute?” Joanna was kinda like a school-teacher; _I’ll wait until you’re quiet._ Bill turned from picking at his guitar and locked eyes with the princess. Jo nodded curtly. Bill knew in an instant that something was up. Liz and Jo were sitting next to each other on the stage Bill and Ted had built in the summer of junior year. Jo had packed up a series of cords. She had her drumsticks pinned up in her hair. Liz was sitting most serenely, holding her keyboard across her lap. 

“I have an announcement.” Joanna said simply. She handed the cords off to her sister. She was easily the most confident, the most assured person Bill had ever met. Joanna tilted her chin up, closed her eyes and took a deep breath before she spoke. “I’m gay.” 

Bill must have been computing this for a really long time. By the time he caught up, Ted had already enveloped the girls in one of his most iconic bear hugs. 

“No way!” Bill found himself saying impulsively, Ted chiming in with him in perfect sync. This was most unprecedented, at least as far as Bill was concerned. 

“That is _most_ triumphant, dudette!” Ted added, grinning that puppy dog smile, honing in on Jo to pick her up. “I, certainly, am totally thrilled for you!” Ted had reacted rather similarly, if only a _liiiittle_ bit less thrilled, when Liz had mentioned her more fluid sense of sexuality last year. It was mostly confusion on his part, seemingly having a hard time conceptualizing what Liz meant by ‘bi’. He had amended this, however, with providing Liz a most excellent haircut. Just above her shoulders, all waves and caramel. Liz had then lent them one of her books on ‘women’s studies’ which had a whole section on gender and a buncha terms Bill might’ve overheard in the cafeteria from the artsy kids. Ted had studied it must dutifully. Bill could barely bring himself to keep his eyes focused on any text book with _that_ many words. Give him a calculus book and he can give you what you want but reading huge paragraphs never ended well. So, Ted would read aloud to him sometimes. They both now knew a lot about reproductive health but that’s only, like, chapter one. Bill didn’t really know anything about sexuality or fluids. Not yet. 

Bill figured that the girls have learned all sorts of majorly important facts in university. Maybe Liz had a whole library of study books she could lend them. He’d like to know more about it all, if only to support the princesses. But, there was this — this more egregious gnawing in the back of his mind. The consistent idea that the girls were just _right._ He worried that something was deeply wrong with him, something most atypical. Bill had a hard time explaining it aloud, so he didn’t. But it had made sense to Bill, Liz’s whole explanation of her preferences. Feeling attracted to men _and_ women just the same, it would just depend on who she met. (None of them were dating anymore — the princesses wanted to “find themselves” and the boys were more than willing to help.) Liz had spent a lot of time going over technical names and stuff. Bisexual, homosexuality, lesbianism, asexuality, pride, community. 

Bill asked, “So, like. Dudes _and_ babes?” Liz nodded. “Dudes and babes and all the stars above. The possibilities are most decidedly endless, Bill, they’re positively _endless_.” 

Bill S. Preston Esq. would never be the same. 

He had thought about it near constantly. _There’s an ‘and’?!_ Of course there’s an _and_. It felt like the greatest revelation of all time. It felt like a solo building up in some ancient rock song Ted would like. 

Now, Joanna - Jo, with the confidence of a gold medalist, the best drummer in the world - had proclaimed that she’s down for babes. Bill found himself walking over before he had time to really think about it. He took Jo in his arms and squeezed. She mumbled in the crook of Bill’s neck. A thank you, he estimated. He just swayed with her for a moment, hoping that she could feel how much they all totally adored her in waves. 

It was then discussed, quietly and agreeably, the current relationship status of everyone in the room. Liz had kicked around, still sitting most prestinely on the stage. “I’m talking to someone from school,” she admitted. “Her name is Mona.” 

“Mona!” Ted had exclaimed, grin breaking across his face. He was light on his feet, sweeping over the garage to the stage with excellent speed. “Like the Mona Lisa, dude!” 

“Ah, dude, nice!” Bill chimed. The excitement was contagious. Joanna, who must have already known this coveted piece of information, took on a teasing tone. 

“Tell them about how you met!” Joanna waggled her eyebrows. Bill loved noticing how many more modern things the princesses have picked up lately. They were the trendiest girls Bill knew. (Bill didn’t personally know a lot of girls.) 

“It was my classical language seminar, she was late and spilled her coffee coming in through the door. It’s the heaviest thing in the world, I couldn’t blame her.” Liz was pink already, looking off most fondly. Bill thought that if he followed her gaze away, he’d find cartoon hearts circling them. Or maybe, like, a love angel or something. Didn’t the Greeks have a love god? Or was that witches and wizards and stuff? Was love magic? 

“I helped her clean up her shirt because—“

“Because you had the napkins.” Joanna, Ted and Bill all said at once. It was a concrete part of Elizabeth’s ensemble, just as important as a scrunchie, locket and her tinted lip gloss. She always had napkins stacked neatly in the bottom of her pink purse. It was a leftover habit, a clever adaptation of a floaty handkerchief from the past. She also kept pain meds, mint gum and band aids (for Ted, who was incredibly clumsy, kinda like a baby giraffe). 

“Because I had the napkins.” Liz agreed. She sighed, dreamily and flying high. Bill was most enraptured with this state Liz was in. Just thinking about Mona had sent her off on a pink cloud; she looked like she was listening to Queen for the first time. Like every note was fresh and overwhelming, but _bodacious_ on all levels. _Sublime_ , even. 

“Excellent,” Bill breathed out. He noticed immediately that Ted had uttered the same thing, in the same breathless way. Bill felt like his chest might burst with all this bogus pounding. His nerves were running rampant all over again. 

“Bill,” Liz said. Bill blinked a couple times, coming back to attention. “How’s the set list for our requested audience?” 

“You can call it a gig. It’s a gig.” Joanna said. She leaned over to Ted and asked, quietly, “That’s what it’s called, right?” 

Ted nodded enthusiastically. “A big one, too! The Treehouse, San Dimas, California!” He brought one hand to his chest and extended the other out. “On Friday, October 28th, we kick off the bodacious beginning of ultimate world peace!” 

An excellent moment of pure air jamming ensued, Jo going on to tap out a rhythm on Ted’s stomach, making him laugh and double over himself. Bill watched, eyes wide, mind reeling, fingers moving around wildly but it so didn’t matter. He was Eddie Van Halen. He was Robert Smith, Jimmy Page. Rockstar king of rockstar kings. He blew a curl of gold out of his face. “I have it all down.” Bill huffed out. He let himself smile, the tingly feeling of making music hitting him all over again. “I can safely say, dudes and babes, it is _most_ triumphant!” The bright looks around the garage that Bill was met with made him feel like he was glowing. 

“Of course it is, man!” Ted hummed, brushing his long hair out of his eyes and shooting Bill a million-dollar smile. “ _You_ did it — it’s already perfect, bro!” 

— — — 

Bill had thought of little else in the past few days other than Joanna’s stellar coming out session. After Liz and Jo (she had gotten another baristas number only hours before practice) had spilled the dip about their latest romantic endeavors, Ted had mumbled around a confession of his own. Luckily, it was of no romantic rendezvous. ‘ _I have an appointment at Jesse’s Pin Cushion on Saturday.’_ Jesse’s Pin Cushion was the most reputable tattoo & piercing shop in the county. (Also the closest and cheapest. That was Ted, always thinking, always considerate. The money he saved on the piercing itself could afford him some extra jewelry.) “What are you getting done?” Joanna had asked, eyes bright. “Please say you’re getting a _piercing!”_ Ted had laughed all light, shifting his weight like he does when he’s nervous. ‘ _Yeah, actually. My tongue.’_ Bill’s brain has shut down unhelpfully. It was bogus. It was heinous. It was preposterous. Not the piercing, no, no, it was all Bill. Bill’s stupid brain and thinking stupid thoughts about Ted and their band and Ted’s hands and Ted’s hair that was getting just so long, man, can you put that up in a ponytail by now or what? It was soft, too, he took good care of it, he — oh God. _Shit, shit, shit._

Of course, dumb Bill opened his dumb mouth and asked about coming along to the appointment. Ted had hit his palm to his forehead and scoffed at himself, asking aloud how he even forgot to have told Bill about it first. (That was Ted. Considerate. Bill might have gone a bit red, but whatever. Ugh. Whatever.) 

Bill pushed the thoughts from his mind. There would be time to sort through all that gushy shit but it was most assuredly not right now. Right now, he had to review a series of vocal recordings for their next real tape for the record label. An album. A _real life_ album! Liz had called it an Ee-Pee because it only had, like, five songs but saying ‘album’ was so much cooler. 

Bill was excited that Liz was finally confident enough in her voice to add most triumphant vocals to their killer tracks. To make her feel better, all four of them took turns singing along to their songs. Ted had had the idea to mix them up a little on one or two of them — something for them all to share. Miss Jillian Arrows Ma’am has been the most inviting hostess they could’ve asked for. She was thrilled about the set list and the local hype was enough to keep her higher ups (whatever that meant) “happy as a clam”. Bill was pretty sure people _ate_ clams but the ‘happy’ part was excellent. 

He had been playing around with making a harmony of Jo and Liz’s voices for about an hour now. He knew he wouldn’t have forever, seeing as it was Saturday — the day of reckoning. He texted Ted, slow and steady, his thumbs never truly used to the task. _Messing with the waiting room song. What time is the appointment?_ Rufus had lent them most coveted technology for the future, in the event that Bill & Ted are ever separated for whatever reason. Bill paused. He hoped that he’d never have a reason to be away from Ted. To be without his best friend? Bogus. Heinous. 

Bill thinks about senior year, before the telephone booth, before the future and the afterlife. He thinks about how Ted looked the day his dad threatened him with Oats Military Academy the first time. How pale he was, how shaky his hands had been. They’d never be torn apart, not if Bill had anything to say about it. He’d most literally been through hell and back and he’d do it again. 

Oh. 

_Oh, goddammit._

A buzz from his pocket. 

_from Ted!!!:_

_EXCELLENT! You are most dedicated, my excellent colleague._ Another message as soon as Bill finished the first one. _Appt is at 6. Bringing snacks and drinks. Coming home to ya in 15._

Bill’s heart wouldn’t stop pounding, he choked down the emotion in his throat. Brutal. Bill let himself stare at the screen. Ted being summoned to his side like he never left. Bill flexed his free hand absently, mind working overtime. This was bad. This was odiously bad. His heartbeat was a Roger Taylor drum solo right now. All at once, Bill’s mind had forgotten the task of making music and instead focused incessantly on Ted “Theodore” Logan. Ted, clocking out, moving his hair out of his face. Ted, carrying snacks from the Circle K to their apartment. Ted, humming to himself on the way. Ted, who would have a _tongue piercing_ this time tomorrow. God. How devastating it was to realize that this was what all the love songs in the world were about. Bill didn’t know how to tell time anymore. He didn’t even know how to breathe. For a while there, all he could do was float along with dreams of Ted’s brilliant smile. 

The front door clicked unlocked. Bill was so struck by this sharp return to reality that he fell out of his chair and hit his back on the ground — hard. “Bogus.” He scoffed. How lame. Falling all over the place. 

“Bill, ‘s that you?” 

Bill mumbled out a reply from the floor, head still spinning. Ted poked his head in through the door and grinned goofily. He was like a puppy. _Uugghhh. Fuck it._ “What are you doing on the floor, my friend?” Ted asked, genuine curiosity in his words. 

“I _was_ working, believe it or not, man.” Bill mumbled. He didn’t have faith in his body enough to move. With giggly Ted right there, it also sorta felt like Bill was melting through the floor anyway. 

“Right on! I suspect a most triumphant killer track is on its way to being fortified on our album.” Ted hummed, hovering over the spot Bill had just been sitting in. Bill could finally get a decent look at him. He’d always thought, in the back of his mind, that Ted was gorgeous in the way that sunrises and kittens and free donuts and guitar solos were gorgeous. It all made you appreciate life just a little bit more, every time you saw it. Bill gulped. 

“You would be correct, Ted. Our track list is totally unprecedented.” 

“Excellent!” Ted grinned, extending his hand down to help Bill up. “C’mon, dude, I brought, like, a _bunch_ of beer for later on tonight!” 

Bill stumbled as he got up. Oh god. It was the weekend. Tonight was beer and bad movies, as was every Saturday since high school ended. Bill didn’t know how he would handle all the _stress_ from an impending mega-show _and_ being drunk with freshly pierced Ted. He couldn’t handle the impending embarrassment. But according to the grin on Ted’s face, there was really nothing Bill could do about it. He’d just be chill. That’s all. They would just chill out. Bill could do that. 

Now, all he could do was pray that his stupid heartbeat could chill out too. 

— — — 

Bill had thrown on a flannel around his waist and an old baseball cap before following Ted to the van. Jesse’s Pin Cushion was only down the road, past the mall on the left — wait right, right side. Bill almost missed the turn. He was distracted by, well, like, everything really. Ted had popped in a mixtape of his, something with REO Speedwagon as the opener. Bill had tried to focus on the road and not so much the lyrics or the way that the sunlight trailed in through the window and graced Ted’s features. He eventually settled for the road. 

The waiting room of Jesse’s was decorated like a rockabilly haven. There was a jukebox in the corner by the front desk, and every wall had some sort of rocker memorabilia. Lots of Elvis and Cash. The attendants all had their hair done up with rollers and red bandanas. They looked like pin up dolls and greasers and Bill was pretty sure he was going to die in here. 

“Hey, rockstars!” One of the clerk babes called, waving most amiably. “Do ya have an appointment with us?” 

“Yes, ma’am,” Ted started, moving up close to the desk. He was smiling, he was so confident in here. “Ted Logan, 6:15.” Bill knew he was staring and pried his eyes away sharply. The clerk girl, who’s name was Heidi according to her name tag, smiled brightly. 

“Right on, you’re booked with Jules! He’ll be right behind that door there on your left, with all the bats.” Bill turned to look where she was pointing. A red sliding door with an elaborate J took its stance. Bats were indeed the main decoration, as well as a few fake syringes full of glitter dangling from the doorframe. “It’ll be just a minute. Sign here for me..” Heidi trailed off into paperwork talk with Ted. Bill tuned it out until he heard the door slide open. 

Jules was 6’6”, easy, with messy auburn hair and a huge patch of freckles. Most of his hair was tied back with a purple scrunchie, something that matched his nails. His name tag said ‘Julian’ and had a little broken heart drawn next to it. Bill felt his throat dry up. This was going to be a long night. 

“Ted?” Julian asked, voice light and smooth. Ted shot up, spinning around somewhat clumsily to face the man. 

“Present!” He said. Bill had been shot, he was pretty sure he’d totally been shot. 

“Present? I like that,” Julian said, chuckling. He nodded towards his room, gesturing the both of them over. “You got a friend with you here today. Emotional support, ah?” 

“I do everything with Bill, yeah.” Ted answered without a care in the world. They made their way past Julian into his small studio. The walls were also red, the door bearing one having a most intricate array of black pinstripes. Ted strung himself out on the main table. Bill went to the chair beside him and across from Julian. 

“Two heads are better than one.” Julian quipped. He closed the door behind them and immediately set to work, sorting through tools that looked most surgical. “So, what can I do for you today?” The guy sorta reminded Bill of someone he would find at a show for The Cure. 

“A tongue piercing, please, my friend.” Ted replied. 

“ _Oooh,”_ Julian crooned, taking a seat opposite Bill. “Tongue piercing! Sexy. Just a midline, then? You know what you’re doing, right?” The playfulness was most potent. Bill shifted his weight in his chair. 

“Yessir,” Ted hummed. He began to rattle off all the other piercings he had in the past — his whole left ear was done up and he had a stud in his nose as a graduation gift from Bill. They had even pitched in some dough to get Joanna’s belly button pierced for her birthday. Ted knew what he was talking about. 

Julian seemed pleasantly surprised. “Very good, Mr. Logan!” Ted ducked his head a little at being addressed with a “mister”. “You’re saving me a lotta trouble then. Ready?” 

Ted gripped Bill’s hand without a second thought. “Ready.” He said. Julian smiled and leaned forward, stirling tool in hand. 

It was quick. Painless, says Ted. Julian went on a spiel about cleaning, maintenance, swelling. Ted was looking at himself in the small (and Halloween themed) handheld mirror Julian offered. His mouth hung open. He tried to talk around his tongue more than once. Bill’s eyes were darting from Ted’s mouth to Julian’s leather pants back to Ted’s most _excellent_ new piercing and so on. Is this vertigo? “But that’s all there is to it! I’d take it easy on the hot drinks for a while, and soft foods, okay?” Julian said. 

“Is alcohol okay?” Ted asked, looking up. 

“Sure, don’t see why not.” Julian shrugged. “Don’t overdo it, that’s my only bit of sage advice.” He drew his hands together. Why had Bill never thought about _hands_ before? Well, actually, hey maybe that wasn’t true. He looked at Ted’s hands all the time. Ted figuring out a tricky note on guitar, Ted handing him a beer, Ted fixing the buttons on his shirt when he does it wrong. Bill looked down at the floor like it was his job. 

“You’re all clear!” Julian said, handing Ted a small bag of supplies. Aftercare stuff, Bill figured. “Any questions?” 

“No, sir.” Ted said most politely. Bill shook his head as well. Julian smiled, easy as ever. 

“Well, I hope you come by and see me sometime soon. Maybe we can get something done for you, Bill, hm?” Being addressed was almost too much for Bill’s mushy mind. 

“Oh, excellent!” Ted said, sitting up straight. “Dude, you’d look so sick with a lay-brett!” 

“A labret,” Julian corrected. “I agree. A ring would suit you.” 

“Sounds triumphant.” Bill said, mostly on autopilot. He had already begun daydreaming about Julian’s hands on his face like they had been on Ted’s. _Fuck my life._

“Next time, man, next time.” Ted sounded so genuinely excited. Bill didn’t even know where a labret was. It sounded like an ear thing? 

He asked about it in the van. Ted was still checking out his reflection in the rear view mirror. Bill had resolved himself to be normal for, like, 30 seconds and not stare like a dweeb. 

“It’s a lip piercing, dude.” Ted said. He brought his hand up to Bill’s lip and poked him, just underneath the bottom one. Bill felt like he was getting resuscitated. “Riiiight there. It’s cool, super versatile.” Bill just nodded agreeably. 

“And I’d.. look good with it?” He asked tentatively once he’d started the car. 

“Oh, dude!” Ted scoffed, sitting up in his chair with new energy. “You’d look like a goddamn rockstar! Not that you don’t already, man. But it’d look _so_ good.” 

“Thanks, Ted.” Bill responded. He was full of newfound — affection, that was it. Affection for his best friend. He’d have to sort out all the extra fairy shit but right now, he could enjoy just being Bill & Ted. They had the whole night left for them and Bill didn’t want to waste another second. 


End file.
